


The Hunting Game

by UXRaven



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Rape Roleplay, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:30:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UXRaven/pseuds/UXRaven
Summary: One shot story. A hunter is on your trail with one thing on his mind. But is it all that it seems?





	The Hunting Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first one shot written in a long time.

You keep running as fast as you can, trying to outrun the thing that's coming up fast behind you. You dare not look over your shoulder, not wanting to know how close it is. You keep trying to shake it off as you make your way through the trees, the only thing keeping you going is the adrenaline that's flowing through you. You feel the ground with each pounding of your feet as they hit the dried mud beneath you.

Then it happens. A stick, a thick one at that rolls sideways beneath your right foot. The movement causes your ankle to give out making you land on the ground. You try not to make a sound as the pain rockets through your ankle and foot.

That was the chance your pursuer needed as you're now grabbed, a full muscled figure pins you face first onto the ground. You feel an abrasion appear on your cheek from the suddenness of it. You make a small grunt. Then you hear it, the low growling in your ear accompanied by warm breath on your neck. You can feel the tiny hairs on the back of your neck raising up from the sound, as well as your breath catching in your throat.

You feel a hand grip onto your hip, while you feel something pressing against your backside. “Gotcha…” Comes the deep rumble of a voice. That hand shifts up and runs along your side. The weight then disappears from behind you, just for you to be gripped by the arm and flipped onto your back. You bring your leg up swiftly to kick your pursuer in the abdomen, it making them hiss out. It's enough to shove them away.

You scramble back to your feet and push off, you baring the weight on your site ankle. Even though the pain from its use shoots up your leg with each step taken. You make it barely ten steps before you're caught once more and are shoved against the trunk of a tree. Your back scraping against the bark. A pair of a strong hands grab your wrists and jerk them above your head, pinning them in place. 

“You can't escape me.” The same voice speaks. You keep your gaze down to avoid looking into any features, just catching the movement of lips. A flash of sharp teeth appear for just a second. “I can smell you.” You're told, the set of lips tugging up into a small smirk. There's an unmistakable rumble like a growl coming from deep within their throat.

Your arms are tugged slightly up, one large hand is able to keep both your wrists in one spot. You flex your fingers a little. You then feel the free hand going upon your waist, travelling to your stomach. A thumb then makes a small caressing motion, making your stomach muscles convulse a little. Your breathing comes in with a mild shake. To which you're certain that you can hear the faintest hint of a laugh.

That hand skims away from your stomach and across and down your hip, while you squirm somewhat to get away. A strong firm thigh however wedges between your own thighs, prising them apart, the upper part pressing against your most sacred area between your legs.

You squeeze your eyes shut, and tremble a little as the thigh between yours presses a little harder. The hand holding onto your wrists tightens a little more as you’re then pulled from the trunk of the tree and tossed face first back onto the ground. He's back behind you swiftly, pressing himself against your backside. This time you can feel a hardness there.

You attempt to push yourself up to scramble away, but a hand now starts to tug at the waistband of your trousers. They’re swiftly yanked down past your backside and are left part way down your thighs. You lurch forward, your fingers scrabbling at the ground, but your hands are grabbed again. With some struggling your arms are pulled behind you, your forearms being held together like a reversed version of being crossed over a chest.

You grit your teeth together, and feel the roughness of the ground on your cheek once more as your hips are lifted, while you knees are shunted forwards so your bare backside is in the air. A hint of red goes over your features from the degrading position.

A sudden wipe of a hand on your backside makes you jerk, along with a small yelp. The hand makes the same motion, harder this time. It cracking against both cheeks. The stinging sensation lets you know that you likely have a handprint in place.

Just as you're reeling from the slap you feel a lone digit run between your legs. It makes its way to your most sensitive area, running over its entrance and towards the sensitive bundle of nerves above it. You can't help the jolt of your hips as it's pressed vigorously. You can just about hear a low rumble of laughter. The finger is joined by another which continues to rub at your sweet spot.

You hear more shifting behind you, the hand disappearing from between your legs. Then you hear the jingle of a belt being undone, as well as a zipper being pulled down. You try to pull away but the hold on your wrists tightens to keep you in place.

Next thing you know something is prodding against your heat, which is followed by a swift motion as you're filled up. You can't help the sudden cry as your inner muscles clamp down. The pace quickly speeds up, you feeling his pelvis as it slams against your upper thighs, and well as hearing the slapping of flesh against flesh.

A warmth starts to envelop you, simmering in the pit of your stomach and travelling downwards, the heat burning between your legs. You buck your hips back to meet the males. With you now responding he releases your wrists. You bring your hands down beside you and push yourself up onto your hands and knees, so you can move more freely. Your hips bucking back to get him deep within you.

He moves once more, his arms sliding around your torso, his chest resting against your back, his hips continuing to plow against yours. That warmth within you spreads further, your muscles tightening up, while your breathing becomes further laboured. As your peak hits you, you let out a cry. It sets off him as well, you feeling the stuttering of his hips before he buries himself as deep as he can, releasing himself within you. Him uttering a growl.

As you came down from the sexual high you had been on you slump down to the ground, and end up rolling onto your side. Your breathing coming in fast, waiting for it to steady out. You feel movement behind you as his muscled chest comes into contact with your back, then an arm slides over your waist. His hand resting gently on your stomach. You let out a soft sigh as his lips then gently brush against your shoulder.

“So did that satisfy your urge?” Logan mumbles quietly towards you. A smile now plays over your lips. You shift as best as you can to turn to face him. You raise a hand in order to run your fingertips down his lengthened sideburns and stubble.

“It sure did.” You tell him, making a small hum of satisfaction. He gives you a half grin and chuckles under his breath. You know that he enjoys these 'games' just as much as you do. You now lean in to brush your lips against his, something he responds to. 

“We should probably get back soon.” You now tell him, to which he gives a slight grunt of agreement. The pair of you adjust your clothes so you're dressed properly, then head off back to the Xavier Institute. Just before you get there you separate from each other. Having the usual agreement of keeping your private lives exactly that. Private. Him heading off to subject a group of students in the Danger Room, while you go to prepare yourself to teach a class on biology.


End file.
